Oh Saints! Let's Have a Valentine's Day!
by the meaty grape
Summary: Valentine's Day special! Come for the romance, stay for the humor. Jukebox, I'mma go T for slightly inappropriate situations.


**A little early for Valentine's Day but I figure you'll all have hot dates on the actual holiday! ;)**

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And so if their hands forever washed together in light velvety caresses they wouldn't mind.

Vulnerable patches of soft skin that never saw sunlight, slightly paler than the usual exposed limbs and cheeks that became flushed in light pinks and reds: crème and roses against smooth caramel, together melting into a decadent dreamland dessert. Invisible baby hairs rose involuntarily when paired with wet lustful lips that ran across them in the most teasingly slow…tormenting fashion. Fingertips sparked electricity dancing happy ballet routines on the small of his tired bemused back. Pearly white soldiers stood in perfectly aligned rows ready to set siege sweet sensitive skin, but halted at almost every attempt, lost in giddy giggles and sensual snickers.

Humidity heightened their alertness to their every pore as the combination of their dewy candied drops of sweat objected fiercely to separation by peeling uncomfortably whenever they tried; forcing them to stay in place locked in a gaze unafraid to breathe into each other's faces creating more of a foggy mist.

Her eyes smoldered and his acquiesced happily, lost in the euphoria of their oneness, both of them terrified to speak unwanted syllables that threatened with the capability of searing the perfect silence. Instead of words infiltrating the thick pulsating air, short serenades of mattress springs whispered unwelcome invitations back to reality in response to their minute movements and synchronized breathing.

Tickles meant the overkill of their nervous systems; their senses had already turned to frothy sea foam floating freely in a furious fit of the great Poseidon himself. She could find nothing else humanly possible to lift her any higher into the clouds to which she had felt she'd waved goodbye to eons ago as she ventured passed grand celestial bodies far outside Earth's atmosphere and away into unfamiliar galaxies. She was silly putty in his hands, faithful and forever trusting as to what shape he would mold her into, though he didn't want her to be anything else and fretfully tried to sculpt her into her original form. His rather large, rough palms and fingers became tools eagerly allowed to explore her every curve and orifice.

As they laid linked in their stillness they unanimously decided the pheromones and blissful peace had been allowed to brew and soak long enough, and it was time once again to light the fire. The previous flames still held small, muted, contagious itches that threatened to combust with triple the concentration as soon as they dared lift the damp polyester sheet off their impulsive skin grafts.

He encouraged his palm to temporarily depart from underneath her hair and neck, again perceiving the natural Velcro of their skin peel reluctantly. His bicep tensed once his hand no longer cradled her skull and when his thumb and index finger gripped the hem of the thin blanket. He paused, almost afraid of the events that would follow next, looming with ecstatic oblivion. He gulped and felt her delicate fingers retreat from the small of his back in order to join him in the lighting of the fire…possibly the massacre of their bodies. Her small white knuckles on the other side of the sheet told him it was okay to possess this level of intoxication- if their minds were to forget their physical entities it'll be deemed a natural form of heaven where nothing else more matters. He smiles and she mirrors him excitedly.

They tear it off together, hearing the rustle of unaware wind flop uselessly with the blanket as it plummets to the floor.

In planet far far away where no such creamy delicious dreams exist, a boy- not ready to call himself a man lays in bed regrettably awake. Stunned, in the dark silence he blinks away the mass confusion that lingers pungently in his memory, the dream…the fantasy he'd just conjured up in unconscious wishful thinking.

He sits up on the corner of his mattress and touches the sheets moist with sweat that trigger all too clearly the images that produce a state disbelief. He immediately swivels around viscously in a sudden jumpstart to his knees to see with ready disappointment the vacant space on his bed he usually reserves for his unruly unconscious arms and legs.

There is no trace, no sound of anyone having been there but himself and the mattress springs settle in the dry air mocking him in harsh shrieks.

For a moment he tries to summon the power of creation and _make _her exist next him. He resigns embarrassed, more than embarrassed; ashamed. While gently smoothing over the empty space onto his calloused palm, he exhales.

The sound of leather scrunches up tightly in her grip, yelping for immediate release and the ability to breathe freely once more. She complies- her car she decides isn't guilty of anything. Last night's dream has her wrapped around its finger, demanding her level headedness in exchange for the excitement of the memory. She can think about it as much as she wants, keep it fresh and updated… but not without losing composure and certainly not without any containment of wild grins and shaky wrists.

She's never liked the idea of losing touch with reality over a boy, the whole principle always seemed so trivial. Her grip tightens on her steering wheel again.

The general mood at the Burner's garage is relaxed, it's still early and rarely ever dangerous; there is no need for them to jumpstart their high strung schedule before a decent amount of T.V., pool, cards, and sometimes breakfast, depending on whether whatever Jacob's created is edible.

Dutch and Texas casually play pool, well Dutch does. Texas can never be casual about competition and begins to throw in specially customized karate moves whenever Dutch levels up on him… claiming to start "playing for real!"

Chuck stands in the shadows taking meticulous notes on the trajectory of the ball to pole ratio in relation to the point of physical exertion and arm extension. Dutch exhales whenever he asks him to stay still for a measurement with a tape ruler.

Far off in the kitchen musty smell exudes, and somewhere in its depths Jacob can be found in an apron with several colored stains on it bellowing something about the right amount of vinegar and left over casserole balance.

When Julie arrives it's barely acknowledged, but she's used to it and finds it particularly useful today. She walks to the booth near the pool table and leans against the chair, absentmindedly watching as Dutch and Chuck wave and Texas confuses her name with Lisa yet again. She waves back to them and glares at Texas, though it isn't much help since he's currently caught up in taking the "casual" pool game to the next level, which will probably mean over abused usage of the word Texasification.

"It's time to Texasify the Texasification! Hiyaahh! In yo face basket case!"

Most definitely mean it…

The three of them watch while Texas attempts to incorporate his billiard pole into his infamous Texas Twister move, they are mildly entertained on account of the slow tempo of the day.

When the wooden stick inevitably flew past the pool table and around the walls of the garage, knocking over decorations and bulletins boards the four of them heard a loud crashing noise that didn't coincide with the landing of the pole or its direction. They all stood from their ducking position and heard Jacob's hoarse voice yelp from the kitchen.

"Holy sons of muskrat tails!"

Though as normal as Jacob's mishaps in the kitchen were, the four bored teenagers jumped at the chance to take their minds off of a dull morning. They all rushed into the direction of the kitchen, leaving nothing but the forgotten game behind.

Julie was the one closest on the path to the kitchen and the other boys followed closely behind. Dull adrenaline kicked in her veins and she was hopeful that she was soon to forget her earlier dilemma.

The gang was halfway through the rec room going into a narrow hallway where they could more clearly see and smell the smoke coming from Jacob's cooking when another conflicting aspect was put into play.

Mike, unaware of the his team coming full speed ahead of him, blinded by the smoke began to run out the same hallway to get to the fire extinguisher stored in one of the bar's cupboards.

At almost full force in the middle of the smog and sandwiched forcefully between Mike, Texas, Dutch and Chuck; Julie was smothered to say the least.

"Oommf!" she crumpled to the floor between Mike and Tex; the wind knocked out of her.

Mike was pushed back significantly, hit by the force of four people running in line together and also fell to the floor.

Julie rubbed the front and the back of her head which both had apparently had been head butted.

"Ouch."

Mike rubbed his forehead too and quickly apologized, "Oh man, I'm sorry Julie!" his voice slightly hoarse from the fumes and he coughed into his jacket sleeve.

She tried to look up at him, but her head was ringing painfully and decided to keep her chin faced down.

"Ah, it's okay…I'll be fine." She muttered in between Peter Griffin whimpers.

Mike used his hand to wave away some of the smoke around them and to get a better look at her injury.

"Here, let me see." He said cupping her chin in both palms to see if she had a bruise forming on her face.

"No, no no! Its fine!" her hands seized his forearms in order escape his tingly contact.

The smoke suddenly cleared and Jacob appeared in the doorway behind Mike with a spare extinguisher in his hands.

"What'er ya all do'in?! I was yelling for help, and here you all are sitt'in in hallway making more of a fire hazard!"

The clear air revealed the other three burners extremely close to Julie's back, all of them smirking knowingly at the pair while Julie's face turns bright red in Mike's hands.

"What about us Mike my man? Don't you want to see if we're okay too?" Dutch snickered much too eager to pay back some old teasing about Tennie.

"Yeah Mike I'm hurt bro!" Chuck said from the back trying to get a better view by maneuvering around Texas's back.

"Texas is confused, why is everyone else confused that Mike is getting all mushy over Karen?"

It was Mike's turn to blush and he quickly withdrew his hands. "Cool it guys, I was just making sure she was okay."

"What'er you all blabbering about?" Jacob was still on the fire issue, and then looked more closely at the scene in front of him; two red faced teenagers.

"Oh Mike, you _did_ decide to pull the moves on old 's Day! And thought you were just gonna let the opportunity pass you by! You ol'e Romeo you!"

"Yeah, he's a real romantic type Jules." Dutch was much too happy.

Julie looked down from Jacob mortified, then said to Mike, "Is that today?"

"Ummm yeah." He said blushing even deeper.

"Well, that explains a lot…." She gushed impulsively thinking back her night's dream.

His ears perked. "Explains what?!"

The "ooh" ing and "aah"ing continued even after they all stood up and went about their business.

"Explains what?!"

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**Hey everyone! I promise you that I _was_ working on a chapter fic for a while, but I am in a serious writer's block crisis. Anyway, alliteration seems to be my friend. Hmmm...Julie and Mike rule...ummm...thanks for reading...hopefully it was worth it and I made you smile a little. I write about this ship all the time but I don't always post, as I said writer's block but this was a random inspiration which have been my favorites lately.**

**I listened to all kinds of romantic music while writing this: modern Adele, classical Billie Holiday, rock She Wants Revenge, and indie stuff which I will not disclose cuz the name are so long :T**

**Oh, Happy Valentine's Day! Star Uchiha this one is also for you :3**


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